A few of the older inhabitants may still remember the house the earl occupied there, the society with which he filled it, and the general mode of life carried on by himself and his adopted son.  Some may recall —­for indeed it was not easy to forget—­the impression made in the good old town by the two new-comers when they first appeared in the quiet streets, along the Links and on the West Sands—­every where that the little carriage could be drawn.  A strange contrast they were —­the small figure in the pony-chair, and the tall young man walking beside it in all the vigor, grace, and activity of his blooming youth.  Two companions pathetically unlike, and yet always seen together, and evidently associating with one another from pure love.

They lived for some time in considerable seclusion, for the earl’s rank and wealth at first acted as a bar to much seeking of his acquaintance among the proud and poor University professors and old-fashioned inhabitants of the city; and Cardross, being the senior of most of the college lads, did not cultivate them much.  By degrees, however, he became well known—­not as a hard student—­that was not his line —­he never took any high college honors; but he was the best golfer, the most dashing rider, the boldest swimmer—­he saved more than one life on that dangerous shore; and, before the session was half over, he was the most popular youth in the whole University.  But he would leave every thing, or give up every thing—­both his studies and his pleasures—­to sit, patient as a girl, beside the earl’s chair, or to follow it—­often guiding it himself—­up and down St. Andrews’ streets; never heeding who looked at him, or what comments were made—­ as they were sure to be made—­upon him, until what was at first so strange and touching a sight grew at last familiar to the whole town.

Of course, very soon all the circumstances of the case came out, probably with many imaginary additions, though the latter never reached the ears of the two concerned.  Still, the tale was romantic and pathetic enough to make the earl and his young heir objects of marked interest, and welcome guests in the friendly hospitalities of the place, which hospitalities were gladly requited, for Lord Cairnforth still keenly enjoyed society, and Cardross was at an age when all pleasure is attractive.

People said sometimes, What a lucky fellow was Mr. Bruce-Montgomerie!  But they also said—­as no one could help seeing and saying—­that very few fathers were blessed with a son half so attentive and devoted as this young man was to the Earl of Cairnforth.

And meantime Helen Bruce lived quietly at the Manse, devoting herself to the care of her father, who still lingered on, feeble in body, though retaining most of his faculties, as though death were unwilling to end a life which had so much of peace and enjoyment of it to the very last.  When the session was over, Cardross went home to see his mother and grandfather, and on his return Lord Cairnforth listened eagerly to all the accounts of Cairnforth, and especially of all that Mrs. Bruce was doing there; she, as the person most closely acquainted with the earl’s affairs, having been constituted regent in his absence.